


The Mercy In You

by Velichorr



Category: Inglourious Basterds (2009)
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Male Character, Character Study, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Gay Male Character, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:22:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28035360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Velichorr/pseuds/Velichorr
Summary: Post-movie. In 1949, Aldo returns to Nantucket and struggles to make sense of his growing feelings for Hans. Little does he know, Hans feels the same way about him... Sequel to If I Could Start Again and Long, Lonely Seasons, but you don't have to read those fics to understand this one.
Relationships: Hans Landa/Aldo Raine
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	The Mercy In You

_I can't conceal_  
_The way I'm healed_  
_The pleasure I feel_  
_When I have to deal_  
_With the mercy in you_

-Depeche Mode, Mercy In You

In the weeks and months after his visit to Donny’s grave, Aldo had done a lot of soul-searching. He couldn’t keep living like this, or someday- sooner rather than later- it would kill him. So he cut back on the drinking, though that proved to be easier said than done. He had grown to hate how empty his house felt these days. The house he should be sharing with Donny. It wasn’t fair. But nothing in life was.

Even after five years, he still felt strange and uncomfortable in civilian clothes. He felt like he was looking at an impostor in the mirror. He was glad the war was over, but God did he miss killing nazis. He felt lost and purposeless in peacetime. Once, he would have had his men for companionship. But they were all gone now. Every single one, dead. Except for Smithson. Thank God for Smitty. He had turned out to be a wonderful friend. They didn’t get together nearly as often as they should, but with Smitty living up north, it was hard. But they still called, at least a few times a month. Smithson was his only surviving friend from that time in his life. The only one who still remembered the Basterds and all their violent adventures. It still seemed unbelievable, impossible, but it was true.

As time went by, Aldo found himself thinking- impossibly- of Hans Landa. He wondered what Landa was up to these days. He had tracked him down four years ago, and found him living- of all places- in a small house on Nantucket Island. It was absurd but true. He was not living like a hermit or a recluse, but Aldo still got the impression he was not fully accepted. He was not surprised. These days, having a German or Austrian accent was like having a target painted on your back. It was a simple, spartan, life. Not what he would have expected from one of the most ruthless and ambitious officers in the Third Reich. But then again, it seemed like he really _had_ changed.

Aldo wondered if Landa was still living there, or if he had moved elsewhere. He didn’t know why he cared so much. It wasn’t like him to give a shit about the nazi colonel, let alone care about him. But the war had done strange things to him, too. Landa was not known as the Jew Hunter for nothing. He had found and arrested hundreds of Jews- women and children among them- and even if he hadn’t killed them himself, he was still responsible for their deaths. But the man he had seen in that seaside house had seemed older. Vulnerable. Completely incapable of such evil, heinous, things. Maybe he had changed, maybe it was all just an act. With Landa it was so hard to tell.

Part of him wanted to go back to Nantucket and find out. Aldo knew it was not a good idea. What could he possibly get from it? When he left that island four years ago, he had no intention of going there ever again. Landa would probably tell him to fuck off and slam the door in his face. Well, he wouldn’t actually _say_ fuck off. He would be much more polite and elegant about it because that was how he was. But the intent was the same. But what if he didn’t? It seemed like such a remote possibility Aldo didn’t even want to entertain it. But it was impossible to ignore.

In December, Aldo was able to take a week off from work. He wasn’t going to let the opportunity go to waste. He took a train from Nashville to Boston. From there, he would take a ferry to Nantucket. As he stared out the window of his train car watching the gray winter landscape go by, Aldo wondered who or what he would find in Nantucket. If Landa no longer lived there, or he wasn’t willing to talk, he would call it quits and go home. He would be _relieved_ if that were the case. But what if he _did_ want to talk? The thought almost scared him.

Could he possibly be developing feelings for this man? This charming, insufferable, but indisputably evil man? Aldo felt ashamed and disgusted just for thinking about it. Maybe Landa hadn’t changed after all. Maybe he was only seeing what he wanted to see. And even if he had, that still didn’t change what he’d done. He would not lose sight of that. He could only guess what might happen until he actually got there.

The journey was torturously long, taking over a day. Aldo did not get much sleep in the cramped, tiny, sleeping car. He did not get to Boston until close to seven p.m., when it was pitch black and bitterly cold outside. _I’m gonna freeze my fuckin’ balls off._ Aldo thought irritably as he got off the train, tightly gripping his worn leather suitcase. At least he was not far now. He had almost reached his destination. He exhaled heavily and looked at the crowded train station around him. He had made it this far. Might as well go all the way.

On the ferry, Aldo had a cigarette, and that did ease his nerves a bit. He leaned against the railing and smoked a while, looking down at the dark water below. The only other people on board were a few tourists and dull older couples. He somehow doubted Nantucket was a popular tourist spot in the winter. In town, he was able to flag down a few locals, give them Landa’s address, and ask- as discreetly as he could- if he still lived there. The answer, somewhat surprisingly, was yes. Aldo continued on to his destination. He still didn’t know what kind of reception he would get, but goddamnit, he would give it his best shot.

Christmas was only a few weeks away, but Hans did not feel all that festive. With no one to celebrate with, what was the point? He doubted he would bother with a Christmas tree this year. Even that holiday ritual brought him little happiness. He felt like he was trapped in limbo with no end in sight. Yes, some people really believed he was a heroic nazi traitor. But so many others refused to give him the time of day for his German name and Austrian accent. He was used to the snide remarks and cold, withering, looks. It was a battle he simply couldn’t win, and he had finally accepted it.

Hans sat on his living room couch, reading a book- _The Sheltering Sky,_ by Paul Bowles- and taking an occasional sip from a glass of milk on the coffee table. He had gotten used to the solitude. He didn’t mind it so much anymore. If that was his lot in life, he would accept it. His loneliness and isolation still ate away at him, but it was an ache he could ignore now. He thought back to his life in Nazi Germany. All the decadent parties, all the women he’d seduced. The women always told him he was nothing like those Party zealots, who were no good in bed- they loved the Party, but that was about it.

Hans prided himself on being nothing like them. He had never believed in the Party’s claptrap about the Master Race and Jewish conspiracies. He saw it for the ridiculous bullshit it was. Hans didn’t join the Party because he believed what they were selling. He joined them because they were the ones in power, and he liked to ally himself with the winning side. But things had changed now.

Yes, it had been fun while it lasted. The parties, the great sex. The thrill of having power. But the more Hans thought about it, the more shallow it all seemed. Those things no longer mattered to him. What he really missed, more than anything, was Vienna. The cafes, the opera house, the Schonnbrunn, the culture, all of it. And he wished- as sentimental as it sounded- that he had someone to love him. He had tried dating a few local women over the years, but nothing worked out.

_Perhaps I’m simply getting too old for this._ Hans mused, as much as he hated to admit it. Maybe he was destined to spend his life alone. And the sad thing was, he knew he deserved it. A knock at the front door interrupted Hans’ reading. Strange. He wondered who could possibly want to visit at such a late hour. He put his book down on the coffee table and went to get the door.

Hans was astonished to see Aldo Raine standing there. Four years later, after he swore he would never return! This was an… _Interesting_ development.

“Lieutenant Raine? What on earth do you want? If you’ve come to annoy me a second time, I have neither the time nor the patience for it…” In the interest of being polite, Hans kept his voice as smooth and pleasant as possible.

He stood with his hand on the doorknob, ready to shut it if the American started acting out-of-line. Raine only stood there, shivering slightly in his heavy coat. He looked so different out of uniform. Less aggressive, more vulnerable. He seemed completely out of his element.

Aldo said slowly: “Look, Landa, I know what this looks like, and I get it. Of course you don’t trust me, and not bein’ a fuckin’ Pollyanna, I didn’t think you would. But we had a nice little talk four years ago, didn’t we? You remember that, don’t you?”

“I do, yes.” Hans said nonchalantly.

“I just want to talk to you man to man for a while. I think that’d be real nice, ya know? But hey, it’s your house, your rules. If you don’t want to talk, I’ll fuck off back to Tennessee. No skin off my back. So, uh, you let me know what it’s gonna be, because I am **not** gonna stand here all night freezin’ my dick off!” Aldo snapped irritably. It was hard to hear him over the howling wind. His cheeks were flushed from the cold, and his breath came in white puffs.

Hans stroked his chin, weighing his options for a moment. Four years ago would have been a different story. But now? Once Aldo had finally stopped gloating at him and acting smug, Hans found him halfway tolerable. Even interesting. He would never forget how- even for a brief moment- the American had talked to him like he were a _person,_ not just another nazi. It struck something in him, even now.

He decided it was worth the risk.

“Yes, you may come in. Not even _I_ want you to risk getting frostbite on your nether regions…” Hans dryly remarked, motioning for Aldo to come inside.

The American lieutenant needed no second bidding. He stamped out his snow-encrusted boots on the doormat and followed Hans into the kitchen. Without another word, Hans went to put on coffee for him.

“Thanks.” Aldo muttered as Hans put the mug in front of him, sounding just a bit surprised.

Hans only shrugged. “Really, it’s nothing. You needed _something_ to warm you up, and I provided.”

Hans brought in his glass from the living room and finished the rest of his milk. For a while, the two men sat at the kitchen table together, drinking in silence. There was an almost physical tension between them. Neither wanted to admit it though. This was strange and new territory for both of them.

“So, what brings you all the way to Nantucket? As I recall, the last time you came here you swore you would never return…Why the change of heart?” Hans asked once he finished drinking, propping himself up on one elbow. He studied Aldo with undisguised curiosity.

Aldo shifted awkwardly in his seat, fumbling for an answer. An answer that would not sound like an excuse. “I was curious.” He began.

“A poor choice of words. Curiosity killed the cat, you know.” Hans interjected with a cunning smile.

Aldo glared at him in annoyance. “Would you stop fuckin’ around and let me finish? Jeezus… I wanted to see if you were still around after all these years. I was real surprised you were. I thought for sure you’d have up and left by now. Why stay in a place where half the people don’t even trust you, let alone like you?”

Hans mulled this over. Goddamnit, that actually _was_ a good question! “Because I have nowhere else to go.” He said quietly. “After all, the United States government was kind enough to pay for this house, and I wouldn’t want to let their generosity go to waste. So I stay here. It is not an ideal life, but it has fulfilling moments. They are better than nothing. Does that answer your question, Lieutenant?”

Aldo leaned heavily back in his chair. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he looked exhausted. After such a long journey, he had to be. “Yeah. Yeah, I reckon it does.” He muttered under his breath.

“Very good.” Hans took his glass and Aldo’s now-empty mug and placed them beside the sink. He rinsed them out in silence. The whole time, he could feel the American’s intense, dark brown eyes on the back of his head. It was unnerving.

“Well then,” Hans said when he was done, turning to face Aldo. “It’s getting rather late, isn’t it? I, for one, am going to bed.” He exhaled shakily. “You’re welcome to stay the night, if you want. I’m afraid I have only one bedroom, but you can sleep on the couch if you’d like.” He gestured toward the living room.

Aldo got up from his chair and stretched. “Sounds good to me. I’ve slept in barns, on the grass, on the ground, and even worse places. I think I can handle your fuckin’ couch.”

Hans grinned and rubbed his hands together. “Ooooh, I like your attitude!”

Hans found an extra blanket and pillow in his closet for Aldo to use. All in all, it wasn’t a bad arrangement. As Aldo lay there in the darkness, trying to sleep, he thought about this whole turn of events and wondered what would happen next. Things were going a lot better than he ever expected. There were still many unknowns though. How did he know Landa was, well, _like him?_ He didn’t, and he wasn’t going to risk fucking this up by making assumptions. He wasn’t stupid enough to flirt with him or make advances towards him. That could only end badly. All he could do was hope it came up one way or another. And if it didn’t? He could live with that. He could accept whatever strange friendship they had, if it was even a friendship at all. Maybe he was reading too much into this.

Aldo fell asleep feeling hopeful but uncertain about what the next day would bring.

  
Hans, too, had a difficult time sleeping that night. He read in bed for a while, as he always did, but after that he was unable to fall asleep. He tried to make sense of these feelings he had for Aldo. He knew what they were, of course. He was neither naïve nor inexperienced. He had been with men before, though not in a long time. This was not new to him. He liked men, and he liked women, he saw no reason why one couldn’t enjoy both.

Why did he feel this way about Aldo, the man who had once been his enemy, and probably still was? No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t make sense of it. This was difficult for Hans, who had always prided himself on having a logical and rational mind. He thought about kissing and touching him, even fucking him. He wondered what it would be like to be with Raine- not that he would ever know. That was a fantasy. And yet, he still had this strange longing for him that was hard to ignore.

Hans felt his cock straining against the front of his pajama pants. He sighed and rolled over in bed. Wonderful. Now he’d gone and gotten himself hard with all these filthy thoughts. Well, speculating wouldn’t help anything. He might as well try to get some sleep, or he would need copious amounts of coffee to get him through the day.

The next morning, a Sunday, Aldo explained to Hans he had taken a week off from work, and would it be all right if he stayed for the week? Hans pleasantly surprised him by saying yes. They decided to spend the day seeing a movie. They saw _The Third Man,_ which was- of all things- a noir film set in postwar Vienna. Hans loved the movie, but it was difficult to see his hometown as a bleak, war-ravaged, shell of its former self. Once, in the darkness of the movie theater, he decided to test the waters.

He placed his hand on Aldo’s thigh. The American did not react at all, he continued staring at the screen like nothing was amiss. Hans’ hand stayed where it was. Then, he decided to get a little bolder: he squeezed the other man’s cock through his pants.

Aldo jolted upright, startled. “Would you cut that shit out?!” he hissed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Hans retracted his hand like he’d touched a hot stove and said nothing. The men enjoyed the rest of the film without interruption. They didn’t speak about the incident at the movie theater for the rest of the day. In fact, they didn’t speak much at all.

The whole thing was terribly awkward and uncomfortable. Hans had to force himself to look at Aldo, he was so ashamed and embarrassed. He didn’t want to know what the American was thinking about him. Nothing good, he was certain. After dinner, Hans retreated to the living room to read, where he soon lost track of time. It must have been hours, because when he looked up, Aldo was standing in the doorway.

“Hey, could ya’ll do me a favor and move your ass? I’m just about ready for bed…” he grunted.

“Oh, yes, of course…” Hans said sheepishly. He picked up his book and got up to leave.

And then, just as he was passing Aldo, something strange happened. Something completely unexpected. The lieutenant gave him a quick, gentle, kiss on the cheek. _Did I…Did I imagine that?!_ Hans thought, his eyes widening in astonishment. No. He hadn’t.

“Lieutenant Raine…” Hans stammered, so shocked he could barely speak. “What in God’s name was _that?_ ”

Aldo raised an eyebrow and frowned. “The hell are you talkin’ about, Landa?” he growled.

“Don’t play coy with me, you know what I’m talking about! You **kissed** me.” Hans spluttered.

Aldo gave him an amused smirk. Hans was not sure if he wanted to kiss him again or slap him. “I did nothin’ of the sort. I don’t know about you, but I’m fuckin’ tired, I’m gonna get some sleep. See you in the morning.”

Aldo brushed past Hans and went to sit down on the couch.

“Yes, I suppose…” Hans halfheartedly mumbled, walking away.

As Hans tried to fall asleep that night, he felt so very confused. Why did everything have to be so complicated? When he had groped Aldo at the theater (he had always been a little too forward), the American reacted angrily, and all but ignored him all day. And then Aldo _kissed_ him! Hans’ mind was still reeling. It was nothing exciting or passionate. Just a chaste little peck on the cheek. But maybe, just maybe, that soft kiss on the cheek could lead somewhere. The thought excited him more than he cared to admit.

But he would have to take it slowly. He had to be cautious. He couldn’t be bold or flashy, as much as he might like to. Why did he feel so strongly about the man who should be his enemy? Hans _still_ didn’t have an answer for that. It baffled him, and it scared him a little too. But they weren’t at war anymore. Were they still enemies? That was a much harder question to answer. He wished Aldo would see him as something other than a nazi. That he saw him for who he was as a person. Maybe in time they could be friends, or even something more. But Hans did not want to get his hopes up too high. He fell asleep feeling lonely and conflicted, both anticipating and dreading the week ahead.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first (and possibly only) time writing this pairing, I hope I got Hans and Aldo in-character! I've always been more of an F/M girl than an M/M girl, but I thought it would be fun to try something different. This will be a short multichapter fic, probably between 3 or 4 chapters.


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